


Sunday Morning (Rain is Falling)

by emissarystilinski



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blink and you miss it praise kink, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, D/s undertones, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, M/M, Oral Sex, Rainy Days, Rimming, Stiles has a filthy mouth and Derek loves it, Top Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4439486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissarystilinski/pseuds/emissarystilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rainy days, especially on the weekends, were always his favorite but they reached a whole new level of favoritism since he started waking up to mole dotted skin and messy brown hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning (Rain is Falling)

In Derek’s opinion rainy days were the best days. Everything was dulled. Smells, noises, even sights were all brought to a whisper when rain fell. Any kind of rain was welcome in his world, drizzles, downpours, and hurricanes put his mind at ease.

Rainy days, especially on the weekends, were always his favorite but they reached a whole new level of favoritism since he started waking up to mole dotted skin and messy brown hair.

He and Stiles started dating a few years after he had gone to college with Scott. They’d gone up to the University of Portland and Derek usually only saw them on holidays or breaks. Somewhere in his sophomore year, Stiles started writing Derek letters. At first it was nice just to talk to someone but then it turned into it being nice just to talk to Stiles. They were pen pals for months, their friendship and slight flirtations blossoming with ease. When Stiles turned up at his door that May, Derek could feel things were different between them. It had only taken a month of dancing around one another for Stiles to make a move.

It’s been three years since and they were happier than ever. Things were never perfect, of course, but that’s what made it great. Stiles was on the cusp of twenty-four and working as a research assistant in Portland. He and Derek had moved in with each other last year and it’s been the hardest, snarkiest, happiest year of his life. He worked at a wolf refuge an hour or so outside of the city and he was feeling more at peace than he had his whole life.

He woke on the last Sunday of the month earlier than he wanted. The clock told him it was six in the morning and he groaned. His internal clock was still thinking it was the weekend and that he had to wake up for work.

Derek smelled the rain before he heard it since their bedroom window was open and a slight breeze was wafting through. Smiling to himself, he snuggle back into their bed for another couple hours of sleep.

On Sundays, the two of them are at their laziest. They always make it a point to finish any weekend work on Saturdays so that Sunday can be the ultimate day of rest. Usually they don’t even get out of bed until early afternoon and even then they lounge around in their comfiest clothes watching movies or reading. They completely disregard their phones and lazily make food whenever they’re at their hungriest.

Around eleven, Derek wakes again. He makes no move to get up but reluctantly opens his eyes. The Portland sky is gray so the room isn’t drowning in sunlight for once. Just a dim glow lighting the room.

He looks at Stiles sleeping on his stomach next to him then and his heart grows about ten times its size. Stiles’ hair is fluffy and smooshed down across his forehead, pink lips slightly parted as he dreams. Derek can’t remember when Stiles’ lashes got this long. Had they always been that long? Jesus he’s beautiful and Derek reminds himself how lucky he is to wake up to this man.

Their down duvet is pushed halfway down Stiles’ body, his pale back sporting goose bumps from the wind. Derek always found it funny that even in his sleep Stiles is somewhat restless. Not restless as in he kicks and rolls around all night but he’s always fidgeting with his side of the blankets. He goes from being in a tight burrito of sheets to having none on him and back again in the span of four hours. Derek, to no one’s surprise, is a fairly stoic sleeper.

This was another one of his favorite parts of Sunday’s. Stiles always slept later than him and he wasn’t ashamed to admit he liked admiring his boyfriend’s resting face. After such a stressful adolescence and all that college had thrown at him, Stiles looked softest when he slept. Sure his face was still young when he was awake, he was only twenty-three after all, but when he’s sleeping there are no creases or frowns or sarcastic looks crowding his features. Just smooth, supple Stiles. Stiles liked watching him while he slept just the same so he never felt odd about it.

“It’s rude to stare,” the man in question mumbled against his pillow. Soon sleepy whiskey eyes were glued to his.

Derek just smirked and shrugged at him. Getting older didn’t mean he suddenly knew how to use his words. Well, he did, but time didn’t mean he liked using them any more than he had before.

He propped his head up on his hand then, bringing his other to trace patterns on Stiles back.

“Do you want me to close the window?” Derek inquired, “You seem chilly.”

Stiles yawned and shook his head, choosing to snuggle closer to Derek instead. His heart warmed as he continued to outline the constellation of moles dotting Stiles’ shoulders and spine.

He leaned down and placed a kiss on Stiles’ head.

“I’m gunna brush my teeth,” he whispered, getting up and walking into their en suite.

He could hear Stiles stretching and making his usual obnoxious morning noises that Derek started to find endearing over the years. He was at his side soon, grabbing for his own tooth brush and stealing the paste from Derek’s hand. They smiled easily at each other and Derek knew that he would never get used to how wonderful it felt to be loved by Stiles.

Once they both rinsed the toothpaste from their mouths they climbed back into bed, huddling close. Derek curling his left arm around Stiles when he took up post in his arms, flopping his own arm over Derek’s torso and slotting his leg in between Derek’s own.

By the time he felt Stiles start to kiss at his collarbone he could also feel his morning wood pressed against his hip. This was another wonderful thing about Sundays. Derek and Stiles never had an issue with having fantastic, mind bending sex. It didn’t matter if it was hard, rough, fucking you into the mattress kind of sex, the monster of the week almost ate you thank God you’re still alive kind of sex, or the slow burn, grinding in so deep they almost sob kind of sex. It was all incredible and they’d learned each other so well that it stayed that way. However, lazy, we have all the time in the world kind of sex is a favorite of Derek’s.

So when Stiles made his way up to his pulse point and started sucking and nipping at the skin there he didn’t feel too guilty about gripping a hand at his shoulder and at his waist to grind his growing erection onto Stiles’ already rock hard one.

A moan caught in Stiles’ throat and he slowly rolled them over so that he could hover over Derek, ghosting their lips together while he languidly rolled his hips against Derek’s. It was Derek’s turn to let out a whine; he gripped at Stiles' waist to bring them that much closer while they moved against each other.

Despite the wind, Derek was feeling so incredibly heated in the way only Stiles could make him feel. Their kisses turned bruising and deep from the barely there touches that were happening prior. Derek loved the way Stiles tasted, milky cinnamon and honey flavor with the undertone of his mint toothpaste.

He broke their kiss with a nip at Derek’s bottom lip to pull away and grab at the hem of Derek’s t-shirt. Another shock is that Derek loved sleeping in a shirt whereas constantly-buried-in-layers-of-clothes Stiles couldn’t bear sleeping with one on.

Once his shirt was absentmindedly tossed to the floor, Stiles leaned down to pepper kisses across Derek’s chest, pausing at his nipples to lave and bite at them. Derek felt his moan vibrate throughout his chest. Stiles loved playing with Derek’s nipples till they were raw and he loved every fucking minute of it.

He removed his hand from the grip he had on Stiles waist to grip something a little more important in his pajama shorts, causing Stiles to hang his head and whimper.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

While Derek continued his little tugs on Stiles’ cock, Stiles leaned over to grab their lube from the bedside table. Derek took it with his free hand and applied a generous amount to his other while Stiles all but tore his pants off and threw them aside. When he dove back on top of Derek for a hungry kiss, Derek started to stroke Stiles’ dick slow but hard, twisting his palm around the tip on the upstroke. Stiles was moaning into his mouth in no time, fucking into Derek's fist with ease.

When he felt Stiles’ hips start to stutter he looped a firm grip around the base of him, staving off any orgasms trying to bubble to the surface.

“Fuck!” Stiles moaned loudly against his mouth, causing Derek to smile, “I’m gunna wipe that look right off your face.” he pulled away to tear Derek’s pants off in one swift motion and tossing them before continuing, “Be a good boy and turn over for me.”

Derek’s stomach flipped as he did what he was told. Stiles hardly ever rimmed him. Not for a lack of wanting too or because Derek didn’t like it but because they never had enough time. Stiles didn’t like giving rushed rim jobs. He liked opening Derek slowly with his tongue, breaking him apart in the way only he could.

“Shit, look at you,” Stiles huffed, smacking his hands on either of Derek's cheeks and rubbing, “So pretty all laid out for me.”

He laid a kiss on the base of Derek’s spine that had him thrusting his hips backwards in search of more.

“Hm, greedy this morning?” Stiles mused, reaching for the lube and placing it close by.

The hands massaging Derek’s ass left him suddenly and he whined at the loss but Stiles was lifting his hips up so that his ass was in the air.

“Hold yourself open for me, sweetheart. I wanna see you,” Stiles murmured. Stiles' dirty talking during sex wasn’t dirty talk in the ‘oh you like that’ sense but more completely filthy testaments to Stiles' ever running inner dialogue and his knack for description.

Derek placed his forehead to the mattress so he could reach back and spread his ass cheeks for Stiles, presenting himself. It should feel degrading but it just made his cock leak precome onto the sheets.

Stiles groaned at the sight of him and started kissing and biting all along Derek’s cheeks, not quite close enough to where Derek wanted him. Yet soon enough he felt Stiles swipe his tongue from his perineum to his hole, his left hand rolling Derek’s balls making Derek yelp.

The best part about Stiles rimming him was that he did it hungrily. He didn’t care if it sounded or looked sloppy. All he seemed to care about was absolutely devouring Derek. He sucked and kissed and licked till Derek was practically sobbing, his tongue wiggling in to lick at the inside of him every now and again. Soon his a finger was there beside his tongue, opening Derek up so he could wiggle his tongue in even more.

The mattress was swallowing Derek’s cries as Stiles continued, adding another finger beside the other. He pulled his mouth away but Derek's sadness at the loss faded as he starting fingering him in earnest.

“You open up so well for me, holy shit,” Stiles moaned in wonder, “I wanna fuck you so bad but I want you to come from my fingers first. Can you do that for me, Der? Can you come on the sheets while I fuck your greedy little hole open with my fingers?”

Derek was positively feral, pulling at his own hair and moaning wildly while Stiles continued to pump his fingers in and out of him. Somewhere along the way he had added in a third finger and it had him pushing back against him, fucking himself on Stiles’ long, talented fingers.

"You’re so beautiful for me,” he murmured, placing a kisses all over Derek’s exposed back.

While his right hand continue to open Derek up, scissoring this way and that, he brought his left under him to tug on Derek’s dick.

After two pulls he was coming hard, his vision whiting out while he faintly heard himself yell a moan into the sheets. Derek sat there panting but had half a mind to whine when Stiles removed his fingers from him.

“I got you, I got you,” Stiles whispered, placing a small kiss to Derek’s hole as it fluttered around absolutely nothing. “On your back, wolf man, I wanna watch your face while I fuck you.”

Derek’s cock gave a valiant jump at his words and he flipped over. Stiles look utterly wrecked, his dick curved up toward his belly, his mouth cherry red and wet with spit. His pupils were so blown there was only a sliver of honey around them and his hair was all over the place. He had never looked so beautiful.

He slicked himself up before bringing Derek's legs up to rest on his hips. Derek planted his hands on Stiles' shoulders and watched as he slid into him, the stretch making him keen and Stiles practically growled.

“I just fucked you silly and you’re still so fucking tight around me, Jesus, Derek,” he babbled, stilling once he couldn’t go any deeper so that Derek could adjust.

Stiles hung his head low so that he could rest his forehead against Derek’s. They sat there breathing each other in until Derek nodded for him to start moving. Stiles pulled almost all the way out of him before slowly thrusting back in, pulling a contented sigh from Derek.

Sunday sex, rainy day sex for them is a slow burn, just the rock of hips until they grow too impatient. The way Stiles rolls his hips is absolutely sinful as he breaks Derek apart, swiping a thumb across his cheek as they kiss open mouthed and loving.

Stiles has been nudging against Derek’s prostate for a good five minutes and the pace is suddenly too slow for him to bear. It’s slow and hard but not hard enough to send Derek over the edge. It’s placating, holding him close enough to the edge that he can see it but unable to fully reach it. It is maddening and blissful.

“Stiles,” he whines, long and needy while he tightens his grip on freckled shoulders.

He’d been mumbling praise and moans against Derek’s lips the whole time, muttering filth in between the you are so beautiful‘s and the I love you’s. But Derek’s voice seems to snap Stiles’ out of his sex filled haze. 

“What do you need?” he murmurs, kissing Derek slowly and deeply as he administers a particularly hard thrust that has Derek moaning into his mouth.

“Please,” he whimpers, “Harder, fuck me harder. I need you.”

Stiles groans loud and long, the hand sweetly cupping his face falls to grip at his hip. If Derek could bruise, there would be a handprint there for days.

For only a moment, Stiles pulls away from Derek’s face to move onto his knees, pulling Derek with him. When they’re chest to chest Derek feels him slide ever deeper, eliciting a tight moan from Derek and a slew of expletives from Stiles.

Large hands work their way up Derek’s back to curl over his shoulders before Stiles starts fucking up into him in earnest. Derek meets his thrusts with hard rolls of his hips, fucking down onto Stiles cock.

He goes to reach for himself but Stiles’ growl makes him think twice.

“I want you to come untouched,” he moans against Derek’s lips, a sharp thrust causing Derek to cry out, “I want you to come from being split open on my dick and that alone.”

Derek feels his head loll back and a high whine escapes his throat as Stiles pulls him down hard onto him while he mouths at Derek’s chest. The pace is still relatively slow and fluid, like waves rolling but there’s a force behind it that has Derek’s mouth watering.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles gasps, moving them both so that Derek is once again on his back.

Once Derek feels one of Stiles’ hand snake up to grab the headboard he smirks. His other hand is holding onto Derek’s hip as if his life depends on it and Derek wraps his own arms around Stiles’ neck.

The first snap of Stiles hips pushes the breath right out of his lungs, hitting his prostate so hard he sees stars. He pulls out slowly, letting Derek feel every inch of him before slamming home again. Derek’s eyes roll back into his head from the pleasure of it. On their way back down he can see Stiles’ knuckles are white on the headboard. He wants Stiles to loosen a little on the control. He almost snickers to himself seeing as he’s the werewolf here but he can see the concentration in Stiles scrunched features and tight grips.

So he lifts his legs to wind tightly around Stiles’ slim waist, causing him to slide deeper into him. That has Stiles’ control flying out of the window.

“Jesus, fuck,” he mutters, ramming into Derek again after pulling out glacially slow.

His pace quickens and his eyes open to meet Derek’s.

“Do you know what you fucking do to me?” he moans, the sound of his balls slapping against Derek’s ass is the only other sound in the room, “The way your ass wraps around my cock is fucking _obscene_.”

Stiles isn’t pulling out anymore, just grinding his hips into Derek as hard as he can, dragging his dick against his prostate over and over again in a way that has Derek slamming his head back into the pillows.

“Open your eyes, baby, look at me.” Stiles begs, sweat making his face shine. Derek’s eyes flutter open and lock with Stiles’. “You looking fucking wrecked, just for me.”

“Just for you,” Derek moans out and he sounds wrecked to even his own ears. He keeps looking at Stiles as he drags his fingertips over his lips.

Derek can feel his orgasm building with every drag across his sweet spot. All he needs is just a few more nudges and-

Stiles slams into him and Derek is gone, he’s floated up and through the ceiling. Sex with Stiles is so good that sometimes it’s practically transcendent.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Stiles mutters, hard thrusts becoming erratic, “There you fuckin-”

A long, strangled moan comes out of him and Stiles is somewhere floating above them as well. His mouth frozen in an ‘O’ shape while his eyebrows furrow and ease. Derek can feel him coming inside of him rope after rope of it and he has never felt so thoroughly loved.

They lay there, their foreheads pressed against each other while they come down from their high and all Derek can hear are their mingled breaths and the the almost musical sound of the rain hitting the pavement outside. Everything around them is dulled but they are still there in screaming sound and color. When he opens his eyes Stiles is smiling at him and he can’t help but smile back at him. The rest of the hour is spent with hushed adorations and declarations followed by soft kisses and butterfly like touches.

Rainy Sundays are truly the best.

**Author's Note:**

> All I wanted was a fluffy, smutty rainy day for Sterek and I think I accomplished that. Thanks for reading x


End file.
